Twisted Fascinations
by MissLizziebeth
Summary: Incest, Lemons, AH, OOC! It's natural to feel attracted to someone. It is not natural, however, to feel attracted to your sister or brother. Bella/Emmett *Collaboration by myself and fanpire.x*
1. Connected

**AN: **New story, but I'll hopefully update _Ms. Dally: Cupid's Flame _and _Secret Longings _soon. If you like Em/Bells then you should like those fics, in case you're interested :] Now, something to note - their birthdays...**  
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Emmett's date of birth: February 2nd 1985  
Bella's date of birth: September 13th 1987

Before we begin! I do not support incest, nor have I been subjected to any real mention of it besides the news. Please do not bash those who find the topic erotic as it is merely fiction; no harm done to anybody. Please and thank you ;]

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

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**July 8th 1992**

The first time Emmett was exposed to the idea of sexual intercourse he was seven years old.

He and his younger sister, Bella, had been sent to the dreary town of Forks, Washington by their mother Renée to live with her ex-husband (and their father), Charlie Swan, for a few weeks. Renée was hardly the most responsible person, and even worse as a mother. Her flighty attitude and silly phases led to her making Emmett and Bella go visit their father almost half the year as she was never there to care for them. Emmett practically raised his sister.

Dear old Dad had gone fishing for the day, dropping him and Bella off at the Clearwaters' house, down on the Indian Reservation in La Push. Harry Clearwater's wife, Sue, was left to take care of her daughter and son, along with Charlie's. Emmett had wandered away from where Bella was making funny faces at the two-year-old Seth, eventually finding himself outside in the garden. Leah was there, happily playing with her dolls.

He sat down opposite her, looking on with interest. Bella didn't like to play with dolls – she said they were far too girly. Emmett wasn't really sure what girls did with the dolls, so when Leah suddenly held out the male doll for him to play as, he frowned.

"What am I supposed to do?" he asked her.

She stared at him, her six-year-old face one of aghast. She then pointedly took the doll back and held her female one up next to it. Giving him another strange look, she pushed them together, making kissing noises.

He almost recoiled. "Ew! You make them have sex?"

The little girl giggled. "That's not sex, silly. That's just kissing." She leaned up and pecked him on the cheek chastely. "See."

His body was frozen. Leah giggled again and got up, dolls in hand, then ran back into the house. Emmett tried to understand what had happened. Under his breath, he muttered to himself. "If that's only kissing, then what's sex?"

The sound of Sue calling out ("Lunch, kids!") made him stand up. He went to the kitchen and sat down beside his four-year-old sister, ruffling her hair as he did. She scrunched up her face adorably and then grinned at him. After the children had eaten and Sue was clearing everything away, Emmett shyly tapped her on the back. She turned around.

"What's the matter, dear?" she smiled kindly.

He shuffled around. "Um, I was wondering what sex is."

Her eyes widened. "What in heaven's name for?"

Without replying, he shrugged, looking down at the floor. Sue sighed and made him sit down again. Perching herself across from him, she began in calm, steady tones. "Well, when a man and a woman – or two of the same gender – love each other very much, they join together physically. Sometimes, when that happens, a baby is formed."

"They're connected?" he asked, disgusted. "Like, they share skin and stuff… _forever_?"

She stifled a laugh. "No, no, honey. They don't actually join together. They just…" she trailed off, not really sure how to explain. "All right, well, you know how you have a" – she struggled to remember what her friend had mentioned when talking about his horrific time of informing his children why they had different parts – "dinky?"

He nodded. "My pee-pee area."

Sue grinned at the names Charlie had told his kids. "Yes, that. Well, your dad must have told you that boys and girls have different kinds of 'pee-pee areas', right?"

He nodded again. "Bellsy has a flower."

"That's right," she laughed. "As you grow older, you will get certain feelings which will be a result of something called hormones. You will start looking at girls – or perhaps boys – differently. Having sex is a way of showing that emotion."

"But, what _is _it exactly?" he pushed.

She bit her lip before deciding to just go with the truth. "Sexual intercourse is when, if done with someone of the other gender, a boy puts his dinky into a girl's flower."

There was silence for a few moments as Emmett tried to digest that. Not long after, he exclaimed with a snicker, "That's weird." He then got up and went off to find his little sister.

Behind him, Sue sagged back into her chair with a look of relief.


	2. Daddy's Dinky

**AN: **I forgot to mention - thanks in advance to any reviews, though I don't expect many. People normally don't like to admit that they read fics like this ;] Oh, and just to clear things up: Charlie and Bella are merely father and daughter. Nothing more!

**Disclaimer:** The characters aren't mine!

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**November 20th 1993**

The first time Bella was exposed to the idea of sexual intercourse she was six years old.

She and Emmett were visiting Charlie for two weeks. It had been a stormy night; lightning burned the sky with thunder deafening the towns below. Bella always hated storms. They didn't scare her so much as they unsettled her. She could never sleep when one decided to rave its fury outside.

Emmett would read her bedtime stories and sing soft lullabies to help her drift off when such a time occurred – and that night was no exception. However, when her chocolate eyes fluttered closed and he quietly left the room after kissing her forehead, she had bolted into full awareness again when a particularly loud bullet of noise enveloped the small town of Forks, Washington.

Without her cuddly protector, Bella brought her knees to her chest and hugged them, gaze shooting round to the translucent curtain hanging over her window. The storm didn't leave for quite some time, and soon the observant, little girl heard strange sounds from across the hall.

_There's a burglar in Daddy's room! _her innocent mind screamed with horror. She quickly scrambled out of the high bed, tiny feet patting gently along the floor as she hurried to her father's bedroom door. It was cracked open just a smidge as usual (he'd told her that it was so he would hear if she called for him and be there in an instant). Pushing it open only a little, she poked her head round to check on his wellbeing.

What met her eyes was a foreign sight to her curious self.

The light reflected from the moon was all that allowed her to see. It outlined the muscles on her father's back as he seemed to push down and forward into something. Beneath him was a feminine figure. Bella had never seen this woman's face before; and it certainly wasn't Mommy's because her parents divorced many years ago.

The woman's head was thrown back against the pillows, mouth etched open in a silent scream and eyes screwed shut. With odd fascination, Bella fixed her gaze on the two, wondering what was happening.

As he continued to push forward and then pull back, her father grunted, while the woman cried out softly in breathy sighs and whimpers: The aforementioned sounds.

When the thin sheet draped over her father's back slipped down to the bed, Bella's eyes widened further. What looked like a rather large, skin coloured cucumber drove in and out of the woman's pee-pee area. And dangling like small apples on a tree were mounds of flesh between her father's legs. Rather than feeling horrified like most children would, Bella felt increasingly irritated that she didn't understand why a vegetable-like object moving into a girl's flower was pleasurable, and she was sure that the sounds they were making weren't ones of distress.

But it still begged the question of who this woman was. Bella bit her lip as she watched them, thinking of the people she'd met today. Daddy had taken her to the park where the eight-year-old Emmett followed her around as she ran with excitement. Lots of ladies had cooed at her and asked for her name, but none of them resembled what she could see of this woman.

Suddenly, she realised what the cucumber thing was. "That's Daddy's dinky," she whispered to herself, eyes wide. After numerous baths with Emmett, the two had begun to question their father (they knew Renée would be no help after all) on why they were different. Charlie had given them a short explanation of 'flowers' and 'dinkies' before nearly running out the room.

Bella observed her father's private parts. It looked a bit different to Emmett's; definitely bigger. She guessed that when her brother grew up, his dinky would increase in size too.

The couple on the bed suddenly started moving faster, the sounds getting louder, and soon they had stilled and only their heavy breathing could be heard. When her father started to rise from the bed, Bella quickly scuttled back to her room. She slipped under the covers, the thunder and lightning now far from her mind as she thought about Daddy and that woman.


	3. Don't Be Like Me

**AN: **Bit longer, aren't you lucky? And of course I'm continuing the story - there is no 'Complete' written on that story status yet, and probably won't be for a very long time ;] This chappy eases us into the real plotline, I guess. The next chappy even more so :]**  
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**Disclaimer: **I can claim nothing!

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**March 16th 2002**

Emmett sat behind Bella on her bed as she cried. He had his huge arms around her and his head on her shoulder, tucked into her neck. He comforted her as best as he could; he had almost chased her to his car when she burst through the school doors in tears. Some jackass had humiliated her in front of the entire class. Emmett wanted to strangle the little bastard.

"Bells," he whispered softly, his breath warming the skin on her throat, "don't listen to him. Being a virgin isn't a bad thing." He made his tone sound lighter, "In fact, it's a very good thing."

She laughed brokenly and leaned back further into his embrace. He couldn't understand why she cared; she was only fourteen after all. It wasn't like she was thirty-two.

"Bella, listen to me," he murmured lovingly, pressing his head to hers, their cheeks and ears touching intimately, "you're underage. It's illegal for you to even have sex – the law must know what it's talking about, right? You don't need to have sex now. Just wait a few years… or a hundred, that works too."

She smiled, turning in his arms to snuggle into his lap. He clutched her tighter and pulled her small, warm body closer to his built frame. Fuck, he loved this girl. More than air. More than life. More than anything. He couldn't live without her around. Charlie had once said that they were attached at the hip and he was right. They didn't separate any longer than they needed to. It was almost unhealthy – they were so co-dependent on each other, and yet nobody had the heart to break them up.

"That's easy for you to say," she muttered into his chest, hands gripping his shirt desperately. "You have a new girl on your arm every week."

He closed his eyes. It was true that he wasn't the best example – far from it in fact. He was the stereotypical, seventeen-year-old jock. He didn't like to have a girl hang around him for too long (only his Bellsy had that privilege), so he fucked them and then left them. But, that didn't mean he wanted her to invite tons of guys into her bed like the sluts he slept with.

"Don't be like me," he pleaded, his voice cracking. She hugged him tighter in response and kissed his jaw.

Once Emmett had started high school, both Charlie and Renée agreed that spending time away from school wasn't best for his education. With Bella following him into higher learning two years later, they hardly ever saw their father anymore – the odd birthday or Christmas here and there was all Renée allowed. She had gotten quite paranoid when they hit puberty; she always muttered about how they would choose her ex-husband over her if she let them be together enough. Emmett made sure to call their dad every few weeks or so, just to keep him up to date, and then he'd hand the phone over to Bella who'd talk awkwardly to Charlie for twenty minutes then hang up. His little sister most certainly wasn't a social butterfly, unlike himself.

With Renée never around and a recently turned twelve-year-old sibling who had no one to care for her, Emmett stepped up and became almost like a brother/mom/dad combo. When their mother married Phil Dwyer, he let himself hope things might change and Bella could have the parents she desperately needed. However, while Phil was plenty capable of looking after their little family financially, he didn't have the firm hand required to keep Renée in line; instead he'd go along with her stupid plans.

"Gym was really horrible today – we did lots of laps round the track," Bella murmured and looked up at her brother.

He smiled slightly. "I'm guessing you want a shower?"

She nodded. He picked her up, bouncing her in the air to make her squeal with laughter, and carried her into the bathroom. He helped undress her and held out a hand for her to hold and steady herself with as she stepped into the slippery shower. He checked to make sure she was balanced on the tiles before stripping down quickly and getting in behind her, the shower door closing with a click. Bella helpfully turned around so that he could wash her back with the soap. The shower wasn't very spacious, and Emmett's muscular frame made it even worse, so they had to squeeze together a bit. Thankfully she was only small, her body petite – the reason he called her a midget.

He gently moved around the soapy suds, caressing her skin. She pulled her hair over her shoulder so it didn't obstruct him. Bathing together felt perfectly normal for the two teenagers; they honestly didn't see it as wrong. Their tight knit relationship led to many rumours, but it was just how they were raised: Emmett did everything for her, and in turn, he couldn't stand to be without her for long, having had Bella's constant company throughout his life.

When he twisted her body to face the showerhead, letting the water chase away all the suds, he collected more soap in his huge hand and bent down to wash her flower. In his mind, the sluts he slept with had pussies, but his little sister would always have her innocence and her 'flower'. (His dinky on the other hand couldn't be called that since years ago when he lost his virginity at thirteen.) The pubic hair that had started developing when Bella had been twelve was trimmed and maintained. He made sure she looked after herself – when she asked him to do it he couldn't in fear of hurting her.

His fingers made sure to soak every delicate petal of her flower with soap, absentmindedly curling the short hair around his pinkie finger. Emmett glanced up when he felt her shiver. The water wasn't cold – so it couldn't have been because of the temperature… With their earlier conversation drifting into his mind, he took a moment to study his little sister's naked body. It was now curved by womanly hips and growing breasts, the nipples pert and light brown. Bella wasn't a child anymore; and being the teenager she was, she now felt those _hormones _that Sue Clearwater told him about so many years ago.

Emmett continued to stare at his baby sister's bare figure, hands still stroking her, until his dick suddenly twitched in delight. Fighting a wanton groan, he stood up abruptly, scaring Bella. She looked at him, startled, but his eyes were wide and he kept stuttering.

"Emmy," she asked worriedly, reaching for him, "what's wrong?"

He backed away instantly, his back slamming against the shower's glass door. She put her hands on his chest, one directly above his rapidly thumping heart. He seemed to flinch. This had never happened to him before. He tried to convince himself that it wasn't happening now either… But it was.

He was sexually attracted to his little sister's naked body.


	4. Natural

**AN:** So, this chappy is carried on from the last. I'm glad you're liking it, though I do want to say a few things in response to the reviews. Teenage siblings _do not _normally shower together. This situation, though possible, is one in a million - Bella and Emmett had a very different upbringing during which they only basically had each other.

I have siblings myself and the most 'dodgy' circumstance I've had with them was when we went swimming and I had a one-piece costume on. And there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. It's swimming! So do not take this fic seriously please, because I am the writer and I am not taking it seriously either.

**Disclaimer: **No ownership over anything.

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Instantly he fumbled for the shower door, pushing himself out clumsily in his attempt at a quick getaway. He slipped on the bathroom floor where it had acquired puddles from the still pouring showerhead, and without a second thought, Bella reached for him to help. With the angle he'd placed his foot down, his ankle wobbled and made him fall heavily to the floor. His sister, having managed to at least grab onto his bicep, tipped down with him. They landed awkwardly; Bella's feet still in the shower, Emmett's head between her small breasts, her knee leaning on his cock and his hand trapped beneath her flower. They panted in both shock and pain from the tumble they'd taken, their wet skin sticking and rubbing along each other's.

"Are you okay?" Bella asked worriedly whilst her brother's body became rigid and his eyes wide. His baby blues stared into her chocolaty browns when she sat up so she didn't suffocate him with her chest, straddling his toned stomach. Her breasts brushed against his nose as she rose, making it itch, and then dangled upon her frame carelessly.

_Not natural, _he thought desperately, willing his eyes to stay away from her breasts and privates. It was obvious that she saw nothing wrong with the situation – other than her brother stumbling, Emmett usually so aware of his surroundings – and why would she? This was how he raised her. Free to just be themselves with one another, no matter their bodies clothed or otherwise. It didn't use to matter.

He didn't use to get a hard on when he stared at her; he didn't use to closely watch the bullets of water drip down her soft skin, watch her supple lips form each and every gentle word, watch the way her figure seemed to just… _mould _into his, like it was meant to be that way.

Like it was natural.

Knowing that if she scooted back even an inch, his baby sister – _his_ _fourteen-year-old baby sister_ – would get a very clear idea of how horny he was right now, he reached for a towel on the drying rack and held it to his nether regions. Quickly putting a frown on his face, he tapped her arm; trying to be casual, though the skin-to-skin contact was made with obvious caution now. "My back hurts a bit. Up ya get."

In a flash she fumbled to hold onto the side of the shower, the spraying water pelting her hands again, and lifted herself up. Attempting to _not _stare at her flower and its intricate, luscious petals that he now had the _perfect_ view of, he waited until her back was slightly turned and then stood, wrapping the towel firmly around his waist to hide his growing erection.

"Where exactly does it hurt?" she demanded softly, wanting to just _help _him. She moved toward him, but he backed away. Hurt flitted across her face and his heart clenched painfully.

"Just go enjoy the rest of your shower," he told her, a hint of nervousness in his eyes. "Go, before the water gets cold."

She looked hesitant, her sopping hair falling into her face when she twisted to glance at the shower then back at him. Her breasts jiggled with the movement too; he knew he needed to leave before he was caught staring. Because he was. Very blatantly.

"You know what?" He edged nearer to the door. "I'm just gonna head to bed. Rest my back a bit." He gave a strained smile, to which she looked at him blankly. Before she could ask anything though he had already whirled out the room, sprinting to shut his bedroom door and lean against it, breathing heavily.

He shook his head absentmindedly. _What the fuck is wrong with me? _he asked himself, before closing his eyes and sliding down to the ground, his back against his door.

Bella was left standing in the bathroom, the shower still running, with her watery gaze stuck to the open door. She didn't understand what had just happened. Emmett had never pulled away from her before; in fact, he normally initiated contact first. She knew he depended on her a lot – he was popular at school, though not by his own doing; people tended to gravitate towards him – and yet, he'd always ditch them to go find her.

She herself didn't have many friends (she was far too socially awkward) so she spent her time at school alone when he couldn't be with her. She knew she was dependant on him too. She needed his company, his cheerfulness to keep her working. His mere presence was what held her together.

The tears leaked down over her cheeks as she thought back to how he flinched away from her touch. It was clear he didn't want to be with her at the moment, but she just couldn't for the life of her understand why. _I must have done something wrong, _she thought sadly. _It's all my fault._

Sitting herself down at the bottom of the shower, its sprays obscuring her vision, she curled in on herself. "I'm sorry," she whispered brokenly to the empty room. "I'm sorry for whatever I did."


	5. Pretending

**AN: **So, I wanted to say a quick thanks for the support you guys are giving me and the story :] Also, there will probably be a lot of mistakes in this chappy because it's 3 AM and I haven't slept yet, but it's a bit longer so I hope you enjoy!**  
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**Disclaimer: **Emmett isn't mine *sob* and neither is anyone else.

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**May 29th 2002**

Emmett moaned, eyes clenched shut, and smacked his hand against the wall just over the headboard of his bed. Beneath him lay some twit from school with curled locks of ebony velvet. Her mouth was etched open in ecstasy as he thrust his pelvis into hers again and again, pounding her pussy with a vengeance. His other hand was tangled in her hair, fisting it almost painfully. The bed bounced and jolted against the wall with every forward push of his lower body, his ears ringing in the rhythmic melody.

It wasn't difficult to replace her face with another's in his mind, her blue eyes darkening into molten chocolate, her tiny hips widening, her huge breasts shrinking to smaller globes of flesh…

He moaned again and thrust harder. She cried out in a high-pitched squeal – one that rather damaged his ear drums – and dug her long painted nails into his back. He fought the urge to shove her away, not wanting any marks from her, never her. But he restrained, consoled by the fact that the marks could be hidden; would disappear in a few days.

Her back arched so suddenly and sharply that she would have throw him off her if not for his brute strength and heavy weight. Her sex started milking his frantically with her orgasm and he knew that the contractions were a conscious and desperate effort on her part to get him to cum. He grit his teeth, opening his eyes to glance down at her. She was covered in sweat, her caked makeup running slightly off her face. She wasn't quite looking at him; more looking up as her lips formed silent pleas that he knew were of him cumming. Obviously she didn't like that he hadn't orgasmed with her and wasn't even affected by her attempts to get him to release.

He wanted to smirk, but felt sick deep in his chest all of a sudden. He stopped his movements, sitting up and away from her, tucking his dick into his jeans as he shoved them up his legs.

She lay sprawled on the bed, staring at him with an open mouth and wide eyes. Blue eyes. _Not brown._

"But you didn't even –" she whined. He cut her off, not even looking at her.

"Get out."

She gasped, screeching, "What?"

"Get out."

"But, you can't –"

"I said, _get out_."

"Look, I'm not going to –"

He whirled around now, glaring at her. She cowered back. "Get out!"

She scurried to pick up her clothes, yanking her skimpy dress back over her head and slipping into her high heels. He watched her with tense shoulders, hostility pouring from him. She peeked at him, taking a chance and trailing one sharp claw up his thick, muscled arm.

"Don't ya wanna at least –" she began in a sultry voice.

"_Get out!_"

She jumped, almost tripping over her monster shoes as she ran out his room and down the stairs. He heard the front door slam and relaxed a bit. The bed, sheets rumpled and in disarray, its pillows scattered around the room, creaked as he perched on the edge of the mattress, face falling down into his hands.

Despite having been doing this for two months now, it still didn't seem real to him. He had just fucked some random slut – not even being chivalrous enough to finish – because, and this was the truth, he knew, she looked a _little _like his sister.

He had known the second he picked her exactly _why _she would be in his bed later on, and it had nothing to do with her personality (which admittedly wasn't the best at all). He had known the entire time; when he was returning her lusty stares and 'innocent' touches, when he was kissing her lips and caressing her cheek as if it really was his precious sister's, when he led her by the hand up to his room and lay her on his bed, when he finally tore off her panties (though the scraps of fabric could hardly be called such) and dove into her already used body dick first.

The absence of that thin layer of skin deep in her body, protecting her virtue, had been a hard thing to ignore. His sister was a virgin; she'd told him so herself. That slut was not and had not been for a while, but he had overcome that, had looked past it. He had tried not to wallow in frustration that he didn't get to experience the strange sensation of breaking through that delicate pink flesh with his sensitive member.

Most people – guys, really – would say that there was nothing wrong with pretending your 'lover' (and he shuddered at the intimacy the word represented, not wanting it to be paired with that bimbo) was someone different. They might even argue that it was like acting out a fantasy. But to pretend that the girl was your own sister…

_Wrong, so wrong._

It all just came rushing back to him when she orgasmed. She hadn't whispered his name like it was a stroke on his heart, she hadn't sighed softly when she relaxed into the bed, she hadn't smiled up at him in her innocence with a sense of pride in her eyes – both aimed at him for getting her there and herself for managing to go along with it. No, instead she had emitted that stupid squeal and shattered what little he held onto of his dream lover.

That smidge of delusion that she was _Bella_. That _Bella _was beneath him during the throws of passion. That he was sharing the act of sex with _his sister_.

Abruptly he froze, trying to breathe deeply and calmly, but it didn't seem to be working. The bile rose up in his throat and he clamped his mouth shut, jogging as steadily as possible to the bathroom. He bent over the toilet quickly, letting loose the horrid flow of liquids. When he'd finished, he leant against the cool surface of the bathtub wearily.

Even his body knew that what he was feeling for his sister wasn't right.

_Well, _he corrected bitterly, _some of my body anyway._

His cock was another story entirely when it hardened at the thought of her, as was the blood in his veins when it throbbed at the thought of her, and the lungs he breathed with when they left him breathless at the thought of her. Always because of her, or his annoying habit of creating illusions that other girls were her.

But there was only ever one Bella. His sister.

He wondered what he ever did to God to deserve this. _Mother fucking bastard._


	6. Help Me

**AN:** This chappy is carried on straight from the last! If you see any mistakes then let me know! I'm not sure how long my inspiration will last for this story, so if I suddenly stop updating then try giving me a cyber kick up the arse - it _might_ work ;]

**Disclaimer:** Nothing and nobody is mine.

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When he finally managed to pry himself from the bathroom, his nausea finally receding into a bad memory, he shuffled downstairs. He went into the massive kitchen that Phil paid for when Renée had an urge to pick up cooking – one that went as soon as it came – but then his body stiffened and his breathing hitched and his eyes became blurry with only one thing in focus. _Bella._

She sat with her back to him at the kitchen table, fiddling with the hem of her baggy hoodie – the one he'd given to her only last year when he'd grown out of it. A part of him – the hidden animal that roared and growled, satisfied – rejoiced in seeing her in his clothes, having his scent on her, even when he knew it had probably worn off a long time ago.

Her head then turned, as if she'd felt him in the room, her beautiful orbs coming to rest on his still figure. She smiled cautiously; he had been practically ignoring her ever since that day in the shower. Pushing her away and hurting both of them because of it. It was like a hole in his heart without her nearby.

"Hey, Em," she said softly, lashes fluttering as she looked down nervously. He didn't say anything, only walked to the sink and poured a glass of water to rid his mouth of the vomit taste. He heard the chair groan as she shifted in it, obviously not having expected him to answer her. He hadn't for a while.

But then she gasped.

It was such a shocked sound, filled with pain and curiosity and disgust and so many other things he couldn't name. He pivoted on the spot and saw her staring at him. She was like ice in the chair, attention solely on him. He blinked. He had to say something, even if it deteriorated the effort he'd put into ignoring her thus far.

"What's wrong?" he asked, not quite able to keep the concern from his husky voice. As she slowly rose from the chair, he noticed she wore thin pyjama shorts. They rode slightly up her slim legs as she carefully walked over to him. He swallowed thickly, averting his eyes away from her.

And then she touched him, and a spark went straight to his heart and to his cock. He felt so alive in those few moments of her skin against his; he nearly wanted to weep like a sap. She manipulated his huge frame until his bare back was facing her. He cursed mentally, reprimanding himself for not putting a shirt on, when her gentle fingers brushed over the marks that slut had left on his smooth skin.

Bella was suddenly clambering to get away from him, falling over the table and chairs in her haste. He reached for her automatically, so similar to how she'd done for him in the shower, and steadied her. But she flinched at the contact like he had two months ago and pushed herself further away.

They stood staring at one another for ages before her dusky lips eventually formed a murmur. "I wish our walls weren't so thin."

The sentence was so normal, but it held such deep meaning. Emmett bit his lip, realizing that the wall his bed stood against was connected to her room, and he hadn't been very quiet during his escapades with the slut. Bella's eyes seemed to search his as he remained frozen, his emotions frayed. She'd never mentioned much about his 'conquests' over the years. She'd never once spoken of her displeasure and distaste at what went on so close to her. It was strange and terrifying to be confronted by her true thoughts on the matter now.

He had never talked with her about the girls he brought home. He never even mentioned their names or introduced them to her, regardless of whether she knew them distantly from school or not. She didn't interrupt him when he was interacting with one of those girls, whether in their home or on school grounds. It wasn't her place, and he didn't want to get her involved.

There were many stories that circulated their school; many sob stories of how some girl had slept with the mighty Emmett Swan and was then dumped by him shortly after. She had ignored the rumours that he was trying to pump up a reputation – she knew they weren't true. Her Em wouldn't do that. He had a heart of gold even with his fist of steel.

The two siblings remained their current stance, their legs soon cramping and their straight backs aching. It was only when headlights began shining through the kitchen window, when Phil and Renée returned home after another day of reckless 'adventures', that one of them moved.

"Why do you do it when you think it's wrong?" Bella questioned quietly.

Emmett panicked internally, thinking she was talking about his feelings for her. He had gotten caught up in the guilt for a second too long, had made himself confused about what she was saying. But then she spoke again, stepping closer to him. They both heard their mother laugh obnoxiously loud outside and blocked her and the rest of the world out. All that mattered was the other.

"You don't want me to be like you," she reminded him tenderly, "so why don't you change your ways?"

He stared fathomlessly into her stunning eyes as she continued to get closer to him, stopping a few inches away. A smile twitched at his lips then. "Why don't you help me?" he suggested, just as gently, just as hesitantly.

She beamed up at him like sunshine, throwing her tiny arms around his broad shoulders. He pulled her tight against his chest, both of them relaxing into the embrace. The tight strain on their hearts, like hot leather straps caging them, fell away and they could breath normally. This was what they needed. She snuggled into him and put her lips to his ear as they heard Phil open the front door.

"Just tell me how," she promised him in a soft voice and pecked his cheek with all the love that was in her words and her eyes.


	7. Dangerous Line

**AN: **So, it's 4 in the morning and I'm tired. Tomorrow (or later today, I guess) I'll go back and fix mistakes :] On a side note, thank you to all the reviewers! To those who don't comment, I find it funny how so many people don't like to admit to others that they're reading this story - as if signing a review with their penname is a death sentence :P Ah well, I'll go weep in the corner alone ;]**  
**

**Disclaimer: **Nothing's mine and also, nothing's yours. Unless you happen to be SM... Unlikely.

* * *

**October 8th 2004  
**

Bella stared at the clock, watching its slow progression with irritation. Her foot tapped against the floor, her teeth chewing on her pen lid, and around her sat the rest of her class, all equally as bored. Their teacher wasn't the best – his voice seemed perfect to fall asleep to, his lessons never piquing interest or excitement to learn. It was her last class of the day; only 2 minutes left of hell.

Over the years she had managed to make one friend – a kind, quiet girl much like Bella herself named Angela Webber. They met during one lonesome lunch: Bella had been sitting silently outside on the grass, wishing Emmett hadn't graduated high school, and Angela had just about tripped over her after being pushed by some catty girls in their year. Bella smiled, thinking about it. Her first real best friend, excluding her brother of course.

Angela currently sat beside her, her chin resting on her hand, elbow on the table, glasses slipping down her nose. Apparently even she'd had enough of the lesson.

The pupils in the room all jumped up instantly when the bell rang. Bella collected her books quickly and waited for Angela at the door. Her friend was much slower on account of her exhaustion. She'd told Bella she hadn't slept much the previous night; her little twin brothers were restless and had caused mayhem for their entire family. Bella linked her hand around the tired girl's, pulling her gently to each of their lockers to collect their things and then out into the parking lot.

After slipping through the crowd of teenagers littering the blacktop, Bella searched around with her brown eyes. A loud beep from a familiar horn caught her attention, a smile stretching across her face as she dragged Angela to her brother's car. Emmett hung himself half out of the Jeep's window, his huge arm waving as he grinned cheerfully. Girls around the parking lot began gathering around the car, attempting to draw him towards them. He refused them all, politely telling them to back away before opening his car door and jumping down. The females sighed in unison as they watched him.

Bella felt a frown creep upon her face, her steps speeding up, leaving poor Angela to almost run. Her hand released her friend's when Emmett bounded toward her, ignoring the girls surrounding him. Her smile returned immediately as her brother scooped her up into his warm embrace, swinging her around once to get her to laugh. He put her down, still grinning, and gave a friendly wave to Angela.

"Your ride, mademoiselles," he joked, holding open the back door of his car. They both smiled and let him help them up into the vehicle. He shut the door behind them and jogged back round to get behind the wheel. The females his presence had attracted all scattered unhappily when he paid them no glances. Bella remembered a time when he would have gave them all a saucy grin and a wink, flirting back readily, and she reached over the seats to squeeze his shoulder.

He looked back at her, smiling softly at her approval, thankful he'd done something right. He started the car and strolled out the school grounds, carefully avoiding the students still standing around.

The two siblings had been quite serious when they made their 'deal'. Bella had helped Emmett change his behaviour – she'd distracted him from the slutty girls, had given him company when he ran away from them all during school, had fed him hints about which girl would try to score with him next. While she was in the dark still about his motivation to change (namely his twisted fascination in her body), she had never asked or pushed, only guided him. He was grateful, always eager for her praise.

Once Angela became friends with Bella, even she offered her assistance. In return, Emmett forever tried to get his mate Ben to finally notice the poor girl that had crushed on him since middle school.

When he stopped the car outside the bespectacled girl's house, he again came and helped her down, waiting until after the girls had exchanged farewells and then driving away. He glanced into his rear view mirror, his gaze locking onto his sister's beautiful face as she looked out the window at the passing greenery. She had certainly matured over the years, her curves growing and her height increasing. She now came up to his shoulder; tall when considering him to be a giant at just over six foot. His eyes wandering even more than they had two years ago and he could never escape the small thought that told him his baby sister had grown up. She was seventeen now, he nineteen.

He had put a stop to their bathing together after the shower fiasco. They were back to being extremely close and affectionate, but he made sure at all times that they never crossed the dangerous line he had been the first to see. Bella was as oblivious to his true feelings as she was back then. However, he knew she was suspicious about some stuff – particularly the period of time when he had ignored her. He'd never explained or told her the reasons behind it, after all.

"What's for dinner?" he asked her. She turned away from the window and rolled her eyes at him.

"Always thinking of food," she shook her head at him playfully. He grinned at her.

"I'm a growing boy," he said proudly, puffing out his chest. She scoffed, but smiled.

"Grow anymore and I won't be able to hug you properly."

It was true; she had to jump a little now to wrap her arms around his neck. Either way, the thought of being denied her hugs made him frown. He lived on her close proximity; her love. He changed the topic swiftly. "Why don't we have a movie night and order pizza?"

She smiled again, nodding her head. "Sounds good."

"Good," he repeated, beaming.


	8. Heady Aroma

**AN: **Sorry - really short chappy! I'll try to update tomorrow (technically later today) when I can! Promise :]**  
**

**Disclaimer: **Uhhh, yeah. Not the real owner. Woops!

* * *

**November 20th 2004**

Emmett whistled cheerfully as he took his hamper from his bedroom down into their laundry room. Renée had decided to go on some two-week cruise around the Caribbean (Phil having to spent ridiculous amounts of money for it), wanting to "get some sun before Christmas sets in" and evidently leaving the two siblings alone in the huge house as per usual. With his mother out of his hair, Emmett could relax again. Lately, she'd been more jittery than normal when their father was brought up in a conversation.

Poor Bella had even been yelled at when innocently suggesting that she and Emmett should buy Charlie a new fishing rod for Christmas. The nineteen-year-old had clenched his fists and ground his teeth to keep from jumping up and shouting at the woman he called mother. After all, she had made _his _Bella's eyes well up with tears.

Thankfully, with Renée gone, all the tension he'd been feeling just seemed to seep away. He'd even surprised his sister with his burst of happiness, asking her what chores he could do to help around the house more than he already did. Bella had put up a fight, saying he barely let her do anything as it was, but he managed to persuade her. A smirk settled on his lips as he grabbed the washing powder; she had always been helpless to his puppy dog eyes.

His entire being froze however when he glanced at the pile of washing Bella had thoughtfully gone ahead and brought from her room earlier that day. His eyes were fierce as he slowly reached into the mess of clothes and very lightly picked up a scrap of material with nimble fingers.

His other hand gripped the washing machine, so hard the metal almost bent, when he took intense notice of the slimy stain the article of clothing proudly showed off in the light.

A choking sound erupted from his throat, his breath gone as he frantically tried to suck down dry air and sticky salvia.

Very similarly, Bella made a noise quite like that when she walked past the door and happened to glance into the silent laundry room, only moments later. She flushed with mortification at the sight of Emmett's nose buried deep into the wet fabric of her lace-trimmed silky panties. His eyes were closed in (what she _surely_ mistook as) ecstasy as he deeply inhaled the heady aroma from her raunchy dream the previous night. She had woken that morning to find her sheets tangled, her hair mussed, and her flower decidedly moist. She hadn't even remembered the dream all that well; just that it was rather provocative – but she decided right then that it didn't matter. All that did matter was that her brother was currently pressing the soaked undergarment to his face.

He obviously hadn't seen her in the doorway and she did not stay another second to see if he eventually would, rushing up to her bedroom and shutting the door quietly behind her.

Thoughts whirled in her head. Why was he doing that? Thank God she hadn't had a pre-school moment and accidentally pissed that set of panties. Oh shit, was he really doing that?

And with those thoughts came strange occurrences. Desire shot through her nether regions, her stomach curling in girlish delight, and her heart suddenly began beating out a samba against her ribcage. She tensed, eyes wide.

Was she… turned on by her brother smelling her natural aroma?

It was clear he knew what was covering the fabric – how could he not know? So surely there was some misunderstanding here.

And yet, her arousal heightened at the very prospect that just maybe it had been _exactly _what it looked like. _It's not right, _she told herself. _Siblings shouldn't like each other like that. _For some reason, her body didn't seem to care about this fact though.

She unintentionally groaned at the thought of Emmett smelling the exact area that aroma came from. Skin to skin contact, intimate and hot. His nose against her flower petals. Breathing in, sucking in… the odd lick here and there from his devilish tongue…

_It's not like it will actually happen, _she reassured herself, feeling her body become even more excited by the minute. _There's no hurt in imagining it, right?_

And this was the philosophy she settled down with as her fingers inched their way toward her jeans, undoing the button and tugging down the zipper. Her middle finger brushed her clit and she bit her lip, all the while appearing to not recall that her dear older brother was someone who took what he wanted, whether it was now or later when he did.


	9. Popularity

**AN: **Yeah, another short one - but hey, I promised! Honestly, I kinda forced it out so if it seems rushed and choppy then I apologize. Also, I kinda went a different way with the chappy than I originally thought I would, but still, it all builds up to more drama!

One question! Do you guys want some lemony stuff even if it is not completely between Em and Bells? (We haven't gotten to that stage yet, after all!)

**Disclaimer: **I own the strange situations my mind comes up with and that is all.

* * *

**January 10th 2005**

Bella had never been one for 'girly' things. She hated shopping and never wore make-up and all the girls at school just thought she was weird. (All except dear Angela, who was quite similar.) But her personality didn't matter apparently – because as soon as the junior prom was announced months earlier than it would be held, girls were throwing themselves at Bella. Everyone in school knew about her close relationship with her brother; he adored her, and it was easy to see. His public affection towards her though caused her to become an "in" to Emmett's heart for the girls at school.

Despite the fact that the coming up twenty-year-old had already finished high school and was already working full-time to earn some money for himself and Bella, he was still one of the most sought after guys in the entire school. Heck, the entire city – every female in Phoenix, Arizona practically stalked him!

It wasn't extremely noticeable at first that the supposedly fairer half of her school was trying to be her best friend. It started with a snobby girl who she absolutely detested strutting straight up to Bella when she was trying to collect books from her locker. The girl had demanded for Bella's attention and then talked to her in a 'sweet' voice, smiling fakely.

"Hey there!" The girl narrowed her eyes, smirking. "We should, like, totally have a sleepover or something!"

Now, Bella was a shy person; only Emmett and Angela had really seen her shine. So when this girl came up to her so suddenly, she floundered. Stuttering like an idiot, she stood for two minutes just staring at the girl. Obviously impatient, the snobby slut (and this description fit her amply) curled a clawed arm around Bella's shoulders, squishing her close – but not _too _close – like they'd known each other for years.

"Yeah, a sleepover," the girl nodded slyly. "I have such great ideas! Hey! Don't suppose your brother will be there, huh?"

And that was when nice Bella was gone. Isabella Swan did not mess around when her brother was concerned. She was still helping him stay away from sluts like this girl, changing his ways slowly. He was always more than happy to do anything she asked and she couldn't let him down by bringing some… _girl _over.

"No, he won't be there," Bella told the girl curtly, stepping away and closing her locker. "And neither will you."

With that, she walked away, leaving the girl to be the one who stammered with a slack jaw.

The second time an incident like this happened, it was in the school library (her sanctuary away from home) whilst she and Angela were skimming the shelves. A random girl she'd seen always putting her hand up in classes and correcting everyone around her about anything just popped up in front of her like a jack-in-the-box. After another tortuous session of speaking with basically a stranger (numerous glances for help thrown Angela's way), the topic of her brother came up again. On red alert, Bella pushed away from the know-it-all girl and left the library.

For weeks it continued. Bella grew so stressed that she lost sleep and ate less. She dreaded going to school and leaving her brother – who'd grown more and more concerned as her health decreased. She just wanted to get away from the abrupt spotlight that had been shined on her. She hated the popularity; hated attention from anyone who wasn't family; especially excessive amounts of it. It was strangely like a phobia, but the bags that formed beneath her eyes spoke of different nightmares… Ones where her brother was taken away from her by some slut, where he hated her and spat at her and laughed at her romantic feelings for him.

For months now she had succumbed to fantasies of him, as well as the inevitable self-pity that he would never let anything happen between them. She had convinced herself that the scene in their laundry room was a lie – an illusion of her own creation to make her see what she felt for him, leading her to hope he liked her the same way, when really he didn't at all. And to escape the crushing blow that she knew his technical rejection would bring her, she did something she'd never done before.

She agreed to go out on a date.


	10. Lying

**AN: **I had a slight laugh with your responses to my question last chappy. Honestly, when I said 'not completely between Em and Bells', I mostly meant if you want to see some self-lovin' ;] Though, other people might get involved sooner or later because life is a bitch, sorry :P

And, _FadeDruid_, don't be bringing religion into this - someone might get offended, hehe ;]

**Disclaimer: **I have no ownership over these lovely, fucked up characters :'(

* * *

**January 12th 2005**

Emmett stormed into his bedroom and slammed the door shut. His shoulders were tense, the muscles strained, his jaw clenched, teeth gritted. He was angry.

His bad mood was both appropriate and not. After all, when overhearing from one of your mates that your little sister is going out on a date with some guy on Saturday, you as a big brother have the right to be furious. Except, it wasn't because of their relation that Emmett found himself annoyed with Bella. No, it was because she was _his_; his soul mate, his girl, his lover, _his_.

Even if she didn't quite know it.

She should _not _have been agreeing to dates with idiotic high school boys (or any male, for that matter) that only had one thing on their brains. The utter need to claim her was overpowering and made him stand a little taller, but he knew it would be wrong to make any sexual advances right now. Long, lonely nights where he'd lain in bed, staring up at the ceiling in silence, had been spent thinking hard about his situation. His desperation to have her next to him always, to lean into the crook of his arm or into the side of his neck where he knew she fitted_ perfectly_, was enough to fight off sleep. His bed felt cold and his heart hollow during those nights. Mornings were always nice – she'd smile at him brightly and give him a kiss on the cheek before making their breakfast, another kiss and a big hug before she hopped out his Jeep to attend school, wishing him a good day at work. He depended on those moments.

Evenings were normally varied. Sometimes she would go around Angela's house to hang out or help babysit the young Webber twin boys, and after he'd drive up like a knight on his steed to pick her up. There'd be another smile and hug, and then they would spend their nights separated until she said goodnight with another kiss. Other evenings he'd have some friends over and she'd perhaps cook everyone dinner before leaving him to goof around with said mates, often only waving and smiling to bid him sweet dreams. Hardly ever did they both stay at home alone in the evenings; if they did, Bella usually spent the time studying for exams, alienated in her room. But he looked forward to days where she'd curl up into his side (another place she fit so well into) and they'd watch a movie, inevitably leading to her falling asleep on his shoulder with him carrying her upstairs and tucking her into bed.

Yesterday had been such an evening where they'd sat together in front of the TV and she'd dosed off. Somehow, the fact that she'd been with him nearly all day previous and _hadn't _mentioned any such date irked him something fierce. To hear it from his _friend_ earlier today when they joked around and drank beer made a part of him twinge inside. It hurt that she didn't tell him. Surely she'd understand that he'd be upset about a date. Whether because of good brotherly intentions, or the actual reason.

He closed his eyes, trying to breathe calmly. Leaning his head back onto his pillow, he collapsed onto the bed with a bounce. Why hadn't she told him?

A timid knock on his door made him look up. He cleared his throat. "Yeah?"

Bella tipped only her head inside, obviously hesitant to enter after his loud display of anger. She smiled slightly. "Hey, Em. You okay?"

"What you doing Saturday?" he stared at her, ignoring her question.

She faltered, uncomfortable, "Uh, not much, why?"

"I thought we could go out for the day. You know, _bonding_." His baby blues still burned into her intently, watching her every move like a predator does its prey.

"Oh, uh, I actually have to pop round Ange's that evening."

His throat closed up and he felt no air pass through his windpipes. She was lying to him. She _never _lied to him. _Or does she? _How could he tell anymore? What if she regularly lied to him and he didn't even know it? _No, _he assured himself, _she's a terrible liar. I would have known._

He knew he sounded pathetic, even in his own head.

She shifted uneasily when he didn't respond to her statement at all. Her foot edged into the doorway and slowly she made her way over to his bed. His eyes stay locked onto her figure, even as she carefully perched on the mattress and took his hand.

"Maybe we could go out on Sunday?" she suggested nervously. His bit the inside of his cheek. They hadn't really _bonded _in a while. Yesterday evening was the first in two months bar Christmas that they had some quality time together. Upset as he was with her lying and agreeing to a date, he grasped onto the idea of a day with her.

"Sure," he said finally, forcing a smile onto his face.

She smiled back, not as bright as normal but genuinely nonetheless. Her fingers played with his, her soft skin so sinful in the way it slid over his palm, his digits, the veins and blond hair on the back of his huge hand. She seemed to glow in the artificial light of his room; the vision angelic to him. He smiled again, this time without effort, and reached his free hand up to her face, stroking her cheek tenderly, his eyes searching hers when the brown shot up to meet blue. Her pink lips curved into a shy smile as she ducked her head away from his gaze, but he captured up her chin with two fingers.

His head still lay on the pillow, his back still resting flat on the mattress. Slowly he took back the hand she was fiddling with and slipped it around her small waist, gently pulling her down to his side. And, yes, there she fit just as he knew she would, contorting her little body to his big frame like placing two jigsaw pieces together, her arm hung over his toned stomach, her head snuggled into the crook of his arm.

Heaven.

He smiled once more, awkwardly manoeuvring his head so he could kiss hers. "Sleep with me tonight," he whispered into her ear, hot breath blowing gingerly at the wisps of brown hair around it. He heard her own breath catch in her throat, but she nodded against his shoulder. Tightening his grip on her in an attempt to both keep her warm and protect her as they had no cover or blanket, his closed his baby blues and fell into a deep sleep, the serenity of the moment and the feeling that this was _right_ carrying him into happy dreams.


	11. Visitor

**AN: **Hey, guys. Got some news! We now have a banner for this story (link on my profile) made by my wondergirl fanpire.x :D I lovvvvvve it! Also, because FFN is starting to get picky about lemony content, I posted up all of my Twilight stories on The Writer's Coffee Shop. Now, if this fic has to be taken down, you can still read it over on the other site ;]

Oh! And pretty please with a cherry on top don't hate me after you've read this chappy! Don't forget to review XD

**Disclaimer: **I own a mug of hot tea and some chocolate biscuits, but not Twilight.

* * *

**January 15th 2005**

Bella smoothed down her brown top, smiling at her reflection widely. The shirt was new, its material soft and light against her skin. She had bought it just the other day specifically for her date tonight. Angela had helped her pick it out, along with some new jeans that clung to her thighs and calves. Her smile wavered for just a second when she glanced at her worn white flats. They were old and tattered, somewhat losing their colour, but she and Angela hadn't been able to find any new shoes for her.

An old jean jacket hung on the back of her desk chair, waiting to be thrown on as she twirled unsteadily in front of her mirror. The finished product wasn't too bad, she decided; satisfied that she didn't look awful. Her mouth shone with the glossy lip balm she'd applied, her lashes a hint darker from a dash of mascara. Bella wasn't a lover of makeup but her lips had been chapped recently and whilst buying new lip balm her eyes caught on the mascara tube. Angela said it might bring out her eyes more too.

She picked up her brush and weaved it through her hair, making sure all knots were gone, before fitting a white headband into place. It kept most of her hair out the way, but wisps of her fringe still dangled down relentlessly.

Sitting down in her desk chair she looked at the clock. She still had just under an hour before her date arrived. She had calculated that she'd be ready to go with roughly twenty minutes to spare, but she hadn't counted on Emmett using up nearly all the hot water, leaving her to duck out of the water spray when it ran cold. Her hands were shaking, whether from nerves or excitement she wasn't sure. She had never been on a date before; this feeling was new to her.

The whole reason for agreeing to the date was still fresh in her mind. Being so close to her brother three days ago – sleeping beside him, cuddled up to his warm figure, in his bed that smelled just like him – had been a cross between torture and contentment. She had felt so happy in his loving embrace, so safe, but her mind constantly told her harsh snippets of truth; that he didn't return her feelings, that he would be disgusted to know she had them, that he might pity her but would eventually still throw her away if he knew.

Despite not originally looking forward to the date though, she found herself eager to please the guy who'd summed up some courage and stuttered out a quick, "Do you want to go out on Saturday – with me, I mean?" Bella hoped that her appearance _would _please him, that she would impress him and make him laugh. That she would be good company on a date.

With no previous experience in this particular field, she had almost caved under the anxiety and asked Renée for advice. That idea quickly went out the window though when her mother skipped into her room, holding out a short black dress, beaming and gushing about how she'd seen it in the mall and thought of her daughter. Bella shook her head, sighing. Her own mother didn't know her very well at all. She'd feared that by telling Renée about her date it would lead to her mother dressing her up like one of the twits at school.

Phil would be no help in this area either, she knew – it wasn't like she really felt all that comfortable enough around the man to talk to him alone anyway, much less about dating. She knew from countless sleepovers that Angela hadn't dated anyone, so her best friend was no help too. Her last option had been, of course, Emmett.

Bella scoffed to herself, slipping on her jean jacket. She hadn't told her brother about the date. The first time she talked about her crush on a sweet boy in school he had gone on a rampage, threatening every male around her to never so much as touch her. She had been ten. She had learnt from that mistake.

The sound of the doorbell made her jump and run as fast as she could downstairs without injuring herself. She swung open the front door after quickly checking her appearance in the hallway mirror, a bright smile on her face, her heart pounding from the rush of her first date.

But it wasn't the boy who stuttered that stood outside. Her face fell quickly, her eyes glued to the girl standing on her doormat.

She had long blonde hair that flowed down her back in pretty waves, and her painted nails tapped impatiently on her folded arms. One hip jutted out, her small skirt stretched to accommodate her slightly spread legs. Her skin was flawless and the palest of pale, her cheeks tinted a delicate pink, her lips blood red and puckered. She had eyes that popped against the colour of her skimpy shirt, the orbs almost purple as they suddenly shot to look at Bella. She was absolutely breathtaking.

It seemed to be an illusion though, for when the blonde opened her mouth, only sharp, icy tones of superiority came out.

"And you are?"

She felt so small under her gaze, wanting to shrink into the walls just to escape it. She mumbled, "Bella."

The blonde smirked nastily. "Lovely, whatever. I don't really care." She flipped her hair. "Is Emmett ready yet?"

Bella felt the floor slip away from her feet. It felt like she was flying, suspended in the air, but she knew she was only frozen in place as she stared at the visitor. Her heart constricted and thumped heavily, her brain fogged up and her eyes blurred. She vaguely registered her lips moving. "Ready for what?"

The girl looked up from her nails, her expression screaming that she thought Bella to be unintelligent.

"For our date, loser."


	12. Gentlemen

**AN: **Apologies for the long wait - been a bit hectic round here lately. But you care not for my RL problems, so I shall hush it. Hey, guess what, this is my longest chappy yet for _Twisted Fascinations_! XD

I had a lovely reader ask me for stories like mine. As I told the wonderful Danny, I know of two. _Can't Have You_ and _Dark Whispers_, look 'em up on my favourites list! If anyone else has suggestions then feel free to comment! I like helping peoples so nice to me ;]

**Disclaimer: **Neither here nor there, but between you and me, I own nothing.

* * *

Bella felt the world come crashing down around her. The blonde had to have been lying. No, it wasn't possible. Emmett would never… He'd gotten better. She'd helped him. He'd promised her that he would never date another slut ever again. And yes, maybe her judgement on this girl was too harsh – heck, maybe she was as sweet as apple pie – but her brother would never lie to her, _had _never lied to her.

… Right?

Her head shook in denial, both at her thoughts and at the girl's reply. A tear trickled down her cheek and her hand came up to angrily wipe it away. She couldn't cry; it may not have been true. Maybe the blonde was lying…

"Emmett, there you are. Can you please get this freak to back off?"

She looked up shakily, her eyes coming to rest on the sight of her brother standing on the stairs, leather jacket in hand, gaze fixed on her. The blonde was smirking, sauntering over and wrapping an arm around Emmett's waist. Bella expected him to tell the girl off, perhaps threaten her, like he did to anyone who threw an insult her way, but he didn't. He just stood there. Another tear spilled over.

His baby blues burned into her, and when he did speak his voice was hard and mocking.

"Your date not here yet, sis?"

She flinched. How did he know she had a date? She never told him, didn't want him to get upset and all protective. How did he find out? For all he knew, she really could have been going to Angela's house, like she'd told him. Her plump bottom lip trembled. After being so indifferent to one another for ages, she'd been so happy when they spent time together again. The other day, she'd woken up beside him on his bed, a bit unnerved by her proximity to him, but happy nonetheless. They'd been so close... Why was he acting like this now? If anything, _she_ should be hurt that he apparently _did _have a date with this blonde slut.

"Who'd wanna date _her_?"

The girl's words were hurtful, but the pain worsened to agony when her brother, her wonderful, loving, big brother, only shrugged carelessly and slung a huge arm around the blonde's shoulders. "We best be going, Rose, we've got plans."

So her name was Rose. _She doesn't look like a delicate flower, _Bella thought bitterly, upset. It was real, this was happening. Her brother had lied to her. _But didn't I lie to him first?_ She was still frozen at the door, staring at the complete stranger who had taken her brother's place seemingly over night. He was just about to guide his date to the still open door when a quiet voice made Bella jump.

"Is – is this a bad time?"

She turned, relieved to have someone else there. But Emmett had tensed, his jaw clenched and his fists closed tight. His eyes penetrated the stuttering boy that now stood at their door, shifting awkwardly. Bella moved slowly over to the boy and gave him a shaky smile.

"No, it's fine, Eric."

His sister's kind tone, layered with some sort of dreamy quality that matched her expression as she looked at this boy, made Emmett snap. "Hey, Eric," he sneered. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Wel – well," the boy stammered out, "I still have school."

Eric Yorkie had been one of the younger guys that Emmett let hang around him and his friends back during high school. The boy's older brother was one of his best mates; the same mate that informed him of Bella's date. _Bastard must have known, _Emmett growled inwardly. Why else would he have not told him who the date was if it hadn't had been his little brother?

The boy was growing more nervous under Emmett's glare. Bella suddenly realized her face was tear stained, and wiped the fresh evidence away again. Her movement had caught Eric's attention. He looked at her with concern until she minutely shook her head at him. Obviously taking the hint to not ask, he drudged up a smile, still feeling Emmett's fiery gaze.

"You lo – look really pre – pretty," he told her. Rose snorted in the background, muttering something horrible about her that contradicted his compliment. Bella tried to block her out.

"Thanks," she smiled slightly in return. He quickly held up the small bouquet he had been clutching without her notice and held it out to her.

"Here, I – I got you these."

She hugged them to her, for a moment forgetting anyone else was there and simply ecstatic that her first date had bought her flowers. It reminded her of the books she'd read and dreamed about happening in real life. She beamed now. "Thank you so much. They're beautiful!"

Eric blushed.

"Yes, Eric," Emmett interjected nastily, "how nice of you."

The boy squirmed at the intimidating brother. Bella took his hand gently and pulled him into the kitchen with her where she left him and she set about finding a vase. Whilst she bent down, searching cupboards, she glanced over her shoulder at him apologetically. "I'm sorry about him," she murmured. "He's in a bad mood tonight."

Eric gave a jerky shrug, "That – that's okay." He grinned as she placed the bouquet in a water filled vase. "I'm really gla – glad you like them."

She smiled at him and took his hand again, pulling him back to the front door. Emmett and Rose were still there, the latter wining about wanting to leave already. The former stood tall, features cold as he immediately set eyes on the couple joining them in the small hallway again. Eric practically shrunk under his attention, shying away. Bella held tight to his hand, becoming angry that her brother was ruining her very first date. She had been looking forward to this date and she wanted to enjoy herself. She tugged Eric towards the door, the boy getting more hesitant with each step closer to her brother.

As she passed Emmett and stepped through the door frame, his nostrils flared and he smiled horribly. "Remember, kiddies, back before eleven and no sex!" Her jaw almost dropped at his blunt comment, but she kept her cool composition. Eric leaned away from him, even more so when the brother shot a very serious, deadly, warning look his way. The poor boy nodded hurriedly and dragged Bella to his car.

She looked back at her house when she sat in the vehicle, locking eyes with Emmett. He seemed guilty and heart broken, but the expression was gone so fast she doubted she really saw it. Just as quick, Emmett pulled Rose towards him and kissed her full on the lips, pressing her body into his with urgency.

Bella looked straight ahead, tears filling her brown orbs once again. _Cheer up, _she scolded herself. _This is your first date. Eric bought you flowers, he praised your appearance, he's being a perfect gentleman – everything is going wonderfully. Don't mess it up by being weepy._

She continually told herself this throughout the journey, and by the time Eric had parked outside the cinema, a genuinely eager smile adorned her face. _My first date! _When the two were seated in the dark room, popcorn and drinks surrounding them, Bella internally begged for Eric to hold her hand. Every fantasy she'd ever had about her date bringing her to the movies included the guy holding her close to him, initiating contact and kissing her cheek, smiling when she laughed at the movie's jokes. But Eric sat rigid in his chair, his body edged away from her, hand laying in his lap, nowhere near where hers settled openly on the armrest. A bit crestfallen at this, she assured herself, _Gentlemen don't invade your personal space. They ask to hold your hand. Eric's shy so he won't. That's okay, it doesn't matter. It's silly to be disappointed._

But a voice in her head told her the truth; what she really wanted, why she was really upset.

_Emmett would have never _stopped _touching me._


	13. Believe In Me

**AN: **Yup, another long chappy, coz I'm feeling generous ;] Now I know this one is a little fast paced, but honestly, with how close their relationship is (or was) I think it could happen at this speed. Enjoy! xxx

**Disclaimer: **I have nothing to claim, sorry.

* * *

It felt like he'd been here before.

Lashes batting, lips puckered, cleavage offered, waiting for his attention after a night out to some bar that only ended in her being more horny, now sitting beside him in his car, staring at him wantonly with sly eyes…

Oh yes, because he _had_ been here before.

The night had gone by slowly, every second a torturous blow to his heart when he thought of _her_. Rose had purred and curled herself around him in the club, ignoring other men's wandering gazes. Nibbling on his ear when he became lost in thought, over and over. Always thinking, always of _her_. The blonde wasn't really a revenge date – he didn't want to get back at his little sister by procuring some slut. No, it was to keep his mind off of… well, _her_.

Hadn't worked so well.

Rose had chatted with him, flirted with him, every time they crossed paths. He worked near to her and they always seemed to eat at the same café for their lunch break. He suspected she planned this. She seemed like the stalker type. And honestly, she was gorgeous – all sexy curves and luscious hair.

But that coy smile and those swaying hips weren't what he wanted. That much was obvious after spending hours with her wriggling around on his lap 'accidently' and having no sign of a boner. Nope, he wanted purity; shyness. Innocence. He wanted brown eyes to look at him with a hunger that was alien to her, to look at him for help with the strange burning in her lower abdomen, to look at him with a fresh sense of satisfaction that he created.

He wanted _her_.

She too had curves, smaller, subtler, sweeter, _sexier_, and hair that made his fingers twitch to run through, all long and silky, and made for his hands to grab and play with. Her clothes were modest, hiding the underwear beneath which awakened his animal. White cloth, white lace, white and _pure_.

She was heaven. She was everything he wanted. She was not here. She was not his.

Rose was pouting as he stared resolutely ahead at the road, hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly he was afraid it'd snap. Every attempt to bring his eyes to her was in vain. The ride back to her house was silent on his part, and when he stopped he still didn't even look at her.

But she grinned, suggestive. "So my place, I'm guessing. That's cool; I've got a box of condoms… or two."

Her claws touched his chest, fingering the collar of his shirt. Yes, he'd definitely been here before. The guilt and shame and _disgust _were no new friends to him. He pushed her away roughly. She tumbled back into her seat.

"Leave my car and don't say a word," he gritted out. She stared in shock.

"But –"

"Now!" he snapped. Rose had enough common sense to exit the vehicle wordlessly. _At least this one listened, _he mentally spat.

As soon as she was out the car, he shot off back home. The clock on his dashboard said it was nearly midnight and he grinned mercilessly. "Let's hope Bellsy's home," he muttered to himself spitefully. He knew he wouldn't hurt her – she knew this too – but they both also knew that he'd have no problem hurting Eric.

But the boy had no need to fear his wrath. He was gone and Bella was sat, wrapped up in a blanket with some tea in her lap, on the couch before the TV. She looked up at him with those big brown _innocent _eyes, but quickly glanced away. Remorse unsettled his stomach at her being uncomfortable around him. He flung his jacket on a chair and shut the front door. He watched her as she watched anything but him, before he finally spoke. "So, did you have a nice time?"

Her eyes shifted, a glimmer easy to see in them that betrayed tears. He thought for a moment that she wouldn't answer, but then her small mumble caught his ears. "I suppose. I'm sure you did." The ending was sour, resentful.

His heart broke.

She didn't understand, didn't trust him not to continue his old ways. He had never intended to sleep with Rose, never. Just waste away the time and keep himself occupied without the constant niggling that _she _was on a date. Even if his plan failed, he had hoped she'd see that. He'd made her a promise. He never intended to break it. She didn't trust him. Didn't believe in him. And suddenly her sadness was too much. He fell onto the couch beside her and gripped her hand in his gently, staring into her downcast eyes.

"No, it was awful," he said softly, truthfully. Her fidgeting gave away her disbelief and he held her hand tighter. "I didn't have sex with her, Bells. I didn't even kiss her after that first time."

She hummed, not really agreeing. His forehead crinkled and he rested it on her shoulder tiredly.

"Really, Bells. Please. Believe me."

The words were layered with hidden meanings – _trust me, believe me, believe _in_ me, love me, help me_ – and they seemed to ignite her concern. She set down her cup and slid her arms around his neck, hugging him to her. "I do. I'm sorry, I do believe you."

He could breathe easier with her wrapped around him. He took advantage of this and inhaled deeply, calming himself down with her familiar scent. He pulled back just a bit within the circle of her arms. "No, Bells, _I'm_ sorry." He shook his head. "I shouldn't have gone out with Rose, she means nothing to me. I just…" He took another deep breath, looking up into her caring, loving eyes. "I just didn't want to be stuck here in the house without you. I needed…"

"It's okay," she hushed him gently. "I understand. I should have told you about the date. I know that now, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have agreed to it in the first place. It wasn't what I thought I wanted." She smiled a little, hoping to lighten the mood, "He hardly talked to me all night. And he didn't even kiss me at the door or ask to go out again."

His fists clenched against the couch. He couldn't have handled it if the boy _had _kissed her. She was his, only his. He was the only one allowed to touch her, kiss her, make love to her…

His inner animal told him this was true. This was right. And Emmett couldn't fight the thoughts anymore. Yes, he would get his Bella to love him, he would. She deserved to be loved, and he just might kill anyone who tried to give her that love. It had to be him. Just him. Always him.

"I don't think I'll go on another date," she was saying now. He rejoiced inside. "It was pointless. I mean, I was excited at first, but… He didn't meet up to my expectations."

His eyes locked onto hers. "And what are your expectations?"

She flustered under his gaze, quickly blurting out and changing topic, "When was your first kiss? Do you remember it?"

Yes. He did remember. He knew exactly when it happened. Renata Holden, in the playground. He was eleven. It was small and chaste, but he remembered it. She had blushed and run away, saying it was a dare. He didn't care. His first kiss. But he didn't tell Bella this. "Why? When was yours?" The idea that some guy had kissed those lips, touched them, felt them, caressed them, nearly made steam come out his ears. She bit her lip and his attention was drawn to there. _Those soft, plump, pink lips…_ He wanted to kiss them now. To see is they tasted like he'd dreamed, all sweet and sugary and amazing.

"I've never been kissed," she mumbled. His eyes widened and his tongue swept across his own lips without thought, all attention now centred on hers. All his. Only his. Pure, virgin lips. _Innocent._

"Would you like to be kissed?" he asked her, helpless to the urges he felt bubbling up inside him. His baby blues were still on those lips.

Her breath faltered and she started babbling, "Well of course, who doesn't? I would have already, I just never –" He was still watching her mouth form the words, fascinated by the slight movements, fixated on the rosy colour and the dip of them, the sweet voice that escaped them, the utter _kissable _quality that begged to be put to good use. And then he did it. He cut off her words and silenced her.

He kissed those soft, plump, pink lips with his and he felt no regret in doing so.


	14. Euphoria

**AN: **I know, I'm a horrible person for letting you all go so long without a chappy. I wish this one was longer, but really, I had to stop it where I did. I just wanted to so thanks for the reviews (we hit over 100! :D) and your positive comments really helped me write. Another thank you goes to _jessa76 _who has sent me at least two supportive PMs every month since this fic was started.

**Disclaimer: **Well, nothing's mine, therefore I must own nothing. Right?

* * *

It was everything he'd thought it would be.

That little bit of splendour through the touching of two sets of lips, hers plump and pink and sweet. His eyes closed on contact and he took the moment to savour the feeling. All those times he'd kissed her skin or hair… they never compared to this. His mouth moulded to hers, and though he was hesitant to add tongue, it felt a thousand times more passionate than any other kiss he'd had.

The kiss itself didn't last long – but there was just enough time to reach a hand up into her hair where it tangled gently and then stroked the back of her head. His other hand was placed on the couch next to her thigh where it stayed for balance as he very slowly pulled back. So delicately and quiet, their lips audibly popped apart from each other. It was the best noise he'd ever heard in his life, other than her laugh and voice.

That moment of euphoria gracefully passed and his eyes opened to connect with hers. Then he froze.

Her face wasn't the portrait of happiness he'd hoped it would be, beautiful though it was. She stared at him with watery orbs of chocolate that spoke of betrayal and disgust. Her little hands came up and pushed him away, away from her, and once she had enough room, she escaped from the couch. Her light footsteps were heard running straight upstairs and into her bedroom, the door of which slammed shut not minutes later.

And he was left, sitting poised on the couch with his hand still clutching air and his lips still tingling, feeling as if his heart had fallen into his stomach.

Bella collapsed onto her bed with a bounce, tears streaming down her cherubic cheeks and soaking through her duvet. Her throat constricted so painfully that her cries got stuck and just wouldn't escape. Instead, she sobbed heart-wrenchingly into her pillow, just wishing for sleep.

How could he do that to her? His own sister?

She rubbed at her eyes furiously, knowing the areas around them were red and swollen. She didn't detect the sound of his footfalls and realised he must have still been downstairs. Her mind tossed her back to that moment, her tears falling faster.

There had been two seconds of ecstasy – wherein she pushed her lips back against his so very slightly, glad that she was seated because her knees felt so very weak – and then came the mental images. That blonde girl, Rose, fiercely locking lips with Emmett just hours ago; experiencing the exact same feelings she was, if not more intense. Why did he kiss Rose if he didn't care about her? He'd said he hadn't kissed her again, but could she really trust him?

The thought made her want to scream.

This was her Emmett, her Emmy; her protective big brother of a bear that never let anything hurt her. He's looked after her for _so _long. They'd never gotten into any fights. These last few years though everything just seemed to fall apart. First he distanced himself from her, and she tried to understand, _really _tried. She'd thought maybe it was a phase and he'd grow out of it. And he did. All was well. He asked for her help and she gave it, like the adoring sister she was. But now… he'd _kissed _her. And not like a brother kissed his sister. She'd never been kissed by a boy before, but she knew that, somehow, it felt like more than a sibling's kiss.

Those buried emotions; the idea that he was being disloyal and treacherous to her, it all came rushing back after those two seconds. And then she felt horrified that she was letting him kiss her and letting him make her feels things she'd never felt before. Her hormones had cried out in agony when he separated their mouths, but she was stone. She wasn't in control of her actions or her emotions and she pushed him away.

She could remember growing… _excited_ by the thought of her brother. She could recall when she'd spied him breathing in the scent of her moistened panties. Now that actual non-familial contact had been made between them, it seemed all the more forbidden. She had reassured herself that they were just ideas, fantasies – nothing would become of them so it didn't matter.

Now that there was physical proof of her sinful desires, she was revolted by herself. These fascinations were sickening, twisted, wrong. They had to stop.

And if Emmett actually wanted her back – and she was quite sure now that it was no delusion of her own making that he did – she would have to set him straight. They were brother and sister. Nothing more.

So why must that thought hurt so damn much?


	15. Heartbeats

**AN: **Thank you for being patient, guys! My lovely newly official co-writer fanpire.x has now finished her exams, so we've had time to write this chappy for you. Enjoy ;]

**Disclaimer: **Well, I'm pretty sure we have no claims to anything here so...

* * *

**January 16****th**** 2005**

The next morning, Bella awoke early with dried tear trails on her cheeks and a blocked nose. She hardly spared the mirror a glance as she got ready for school before warily making her way downstairs. The kitchen was empty and bright as sunlight spilled through the curtains, and she smiled at the feel of it on her face. Breakfast was consumed quickly and then she was out the front door, careful to shut it gently. Emmett normally drove her to school, but she just couldn't deal with him today.

Lessons passed her by without much care, but she dreaded each time the clock ticked forward one minute. Her stride was one of reluctance as she and Angela made their way outside. As per usual, Emmett waited in his truck. His expression was guarded, seemingly relaxed and yet she could feel the weight of his gaze on her flesh. He jumped down to help them into his Jeep. He touched her with such gentleness, such care, such… distance. She couldn't hide the frown that marred her features when she noticed how he restrained himself from their normal affection.

It unsettled her. She may not have wanted to be with him romantically, but she still needed her brother.

Once back home, the two dispersed into separate rooms and said not one word to the other. After she had sat and simply stared at her bedroom wall for three hours, she made her way back downstairs to make dinner. He was in the kitchen, ready to help her. He watched her avidly, his hands curled against his sides to refrain from reaching out to her. She sighed and turned to him.

"Em," she said softly. His eyes locked with hers and she repressed the urge to gasp. They were dark, glazed off, drowsy with lust, and shone with that deep level of love they shared. They were each other's best friend; that connection had always existed – but somewhere the lines had blurred and now they had become more to each other.

He stepped toward her and pulled her head to his chest, hugging her tight. His arms, so strong, so protective, so loving, encompassed her very being and swallowed her whole. She rested her cheek against him contently. "I love you, Bellsy," he murmured into her hair and she squeezed closer to his body, contorting to his frame. His neck dipped, his lips brushed her nose, his scent invaded her nostrils and she opened her eyes to see him looking down at her.

She froze as he bent toward her. With such care and devotion, passion hardly buried beneath each touch, he tenderly kissed along her smooth jaw, moving up to her cheek after reaching her ear and then crossing over to the other cheek to shower it with the same closed-mouth pecks. Each kiss closer to her mouth made her eyes close shut and her blood boil hot and her insides churn pleasantly. But other than the pounding of her heart, she did not respond when he pressed his lips to hers. She simply let him kiss her until sense flooded back and she urgently pulled away.

He observed her tense posture minutely and then his gaze met hers, shining with hurt. "Bellsy…"

"No," she snapped, unable to contain herself. Conflict raged within her and yet the words flowed with such confidence that he flinched back as if struck. "This is wrong and has to stop. We are siblings and we love each other platonically. That is _all_."

He was immobile for nought but two seconds before taking her slender wrist in one large hand and pulling it to his chest. She momentarily jerked back, unable to really move as he held her, and though it was merely an automatic response to his quick movements, it made his heart hurt. To not only sooth its rapid pace but also to prove a point, he flattened her small palm flush atop his shirt where his heart lay. She could feel him breathe, could feel his life organ pump away, and she looked up at him in dumfounded question.

"My heart beats this fast because of you," he told her fiercely, baby blues ablaze. She was silenced. "I can't be without you because I'm in love with you. I know I shouldn't be, I know that as your brother it's wrong to feel this way but I don't care. And I know you love me too because your heart is racing just as fast as mine." And it was. She knew it was without checking her pulse; she was gently panting for breath and her veins felt thick and full as blood ran through her body. Her heart was definitely working full speed – there was no doubt about that.

But she couldn't just allow him to treat her like a lover would. She shook her head adamantly and tried to pull away from him but he held her firm. "Stop running from me," he said, close to begging. "Stop trying to deny what you really feel. You can't lie to me, Bells, and it isn't healthy to lie to yourself."

"You're hurting me!" she exclaimed, and though he knew he wasn't holding her tight enough to actually harm her, the fact that she would resort to saying such things in her attempt to escape made him instantly let her go. She was gone from the room immediately and he sighed, his body sagging as he lent against the kitchen counter.

He rubbed a hand over his face before looking around. Pots and pans littered the room, some containing half-cooked food, others empty and ready to be used. No longer feeling hungry for dinner, he turned off all of the appliances and left for his bedroom, not bothering to put anything away. His bed creaked as he lay his aching body down. His clothing still fully on and the evening sun still shining through his window, he simply turned to his side and closed his eyes. Sleep came surprisingly quickly and he woke close to midnight due to a grumbling stomach.

He changed into a pair of comfortable pyjama bottoms and closed his curtains before shuffling downstairs. The house was quiet and along with the semi-made dinner that he had left, there was now evidence of takeout in the kitchen. Clearly Phil and Renée were back after spending the last few days on some trip. Emmett grimaced. He didn't get along with his mother or stepfather. Having them back in the house meant he had to deal with them whilst also keeping his feelings for Bella a secret.

He made himself a sandwich and went back upstairs. When passing his mother's room, he paused, listening in at the door. Snores met his ears and he relaxed. At least they were asleep and not spending the night otherwise engaged. He shuddered, taking a bite of his food. After swallowing the last of his sandwich, he checked in on Bella. She was sleeping with her back to the door and he could see that she had dressed for bed, all snuggled under the duvet. Repressing the urge to sneakily kiss her head, he shut her door. He had taken only three steps toward his own door when a whimper came from Bella's room and he froze in concern.


End file.
